


There’s No Place Like Home

by ifellintothestars (firefliesandstarlight)



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I’m bad at tagging, Oneshot, oh well, only tagged Jarvis cause I mentioned him once lmao, still don’t understand why they had to cancel it :///, we stan Peggy Carter, well it’s canon compliant except they’re gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 13:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21302786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefliesandstarlight/pseuds/ifellintothestars
Summary: A Cartinelli OneshotWhen Agent Peggy Carter asks Angie Martinelli to accompany her to the docks of New York City for a mission, Angie is, at first, reluctant to go. But Peggy manages to convince her, and the mission turns out to have unexpected results for the pair.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli
Kudos: 40





	There’s No Place Like Home

“The answer is no, English.” 

“I never even said anything!” 

“You don’t need to. I know that face— that’s your ‘please ignore common sense for me’ face. And I know you’re gonna ask me to do something that’s likely to get us both killed— nuh-uh! Don’t argue! You know it’s true,” Angie continued, holding up a finger when Peggy opened her mouth to retort. Never once did Angie pause her grueling task of wiping the counter, sweeping crumbs and various spots of spilled liquids onto the floor.  
“And, anyways, whatever dumb thing you were about to suggest would be for the sake of some ridiculous plot that makes sense to you and you alone. So, yes, English, the answer is no.” 

Peggy stared, mouth slightly agape, at Angie’s flushed yet triumphant face. Several times, she made an attempt to speak, but only ended up furrowing her brow. Peggy Carter was absolutely, perfectly, flabbergasted. 

Angie grinned, tossing her rag aside and leaning forwards, her hands clasped coyly beneath her chin. “Was I right?” 

To Peggy’s relief, a sentence found its way to the forefront of her thoughts: “However did you figure out all that?” 

“I’ve got my ways.” 

It was late; the diner was nearly closed, only a few meandering customers, most of them lone men, left scattered at the tables. Angie was exhausted, and her feet throbbed, and the sprightly music coming from the jukebox made her want to punch somebody, but her smile never wavered for Peggy. There was no horrible day that Peggy couldn’t brighten up. 

As last customer left the diner, Angie nodded at one of her coworkers, giving them the go-ahead to flip the sign on the door to “closed”. Peggy came to the diner often, (and was kind to the waitresses, not to mention vouched for by the lovely Miss Martinelli,) so she didn’t really count as a regular customer anymore. It was a rare night that Peggy didn’t walk out alongside Angie after closing. 

Peggy shook her head, clearing the cobwebs from her thoughts, and said, in her best please-come-with-me-I-need-you voice, “C’mon, darling, it’ll be fun! All we have to do is stroll down to the docks, have a look around, and walk back to your place.” She paused to look imploringly at Angie. “You’ve always talked of a great adventure, Angie. Here’s your chance!” 

Angie sighed, putting her hands on her hips and looking carefully at Peggy. “English, you know I’ve got the first shift tomorrow, plus an apartment-full of chores to do.” 

“I’ll get Jarvis to drop by and do your laundry.” 

“How long will I be gone?” Angie’s tone went from skeptical to borderline enthused in a heartbeat. 

“Oh, it shouldn’t take long. I’d say two hours, tops.” 

“What would we have to do, exactly?” 

“Nothing too strenuous, really,” Peggy said quickly, noticing that Angie had said “we” instead of “I”. “Just listen in on a few conversations, that sort of thing. You know your memory is so much better than mine.” 

Angie screwed up her nose in thought. “Does that two hour time estimate include the half hour walk to and from the docks?” 

Peggy smiled. “It does now.” 

“Let me go tell Marie to lock up.” 

~~~

The seawater lapping up against the wooden docks provided a peaceful soundtrack for the evening. Angie, still wearing her diner uniform, minus the hat and name tag and plus Peggy’s coat, muffled a sneeze. 

“Shh!” Peggy put a finger to her lips, hardly turning her head towards Angie. Her eyes were fixed on an empty spot on a dock a few feet away from them where a streetlamp had gone out, leaving an opportune circle of darkness. A large pile of crates provided the perfect hiding place for the two, and, as such, that was where they were currently crouched. 

“You know I can’t help it, Peg. I’ve been allergic to seawater my whole life,” Angie said earnestly, her whisper a bit louder than she intended. 

“Move to Kansas then, Dorothy. I hear they have fascinating flying monkeys,” Peggy murmured, still not really paying attention to Angie. To men had just walked into the circle of darkness, and she could see their lips moving, but she still needed to listen. 

Angie scoffed, taken aback. She’d never seen her English like this before, not even when she’d come clean about what her job really was. “Well, I’ll have you know that—“ 

Peggy pressed her finger to Angie’s lips, cutting her off. 

“...over New York,” one of the men was saying. The other man did not seem happy at his words. “The key here, sir, is to—“ 

“How should you know?!” The other man looked as though he might explode. Even from their hiding spot, Angie could see that his face had become an unpleasant shade of puce. “You’ve never done anything right in your entire goddamn life, Schwartz!” 

While Schwartz struggled to come up with an appropriate reply, Peggy sunk down to her knees and turned to Angie. 

“Please don’t move to Kansas. I’d miss you, darling, and you know I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry. I’m sure I could find you allergy medication at the pharmacy,” Peggy whisper-pleaded. 

“English,” Angie started, hushed steel in her voice. Peggy blanched. Angie could no longer hide her smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it!” Angie said happily, forgetting the don’t-be-loud-right-now rule. 

The angry man whirled around, his coat flaps spinning with him and settling almost immediately, as if his anger quelled their very spirit. “Who was that?” the man bellowed. “Who’s there?” 

Angie squeaked, covering her mouth with both hands. Peggy looked only mildly concerned. 

The two were momentarily saved by Schwartz abruptly shouting, louder than anything Angie had ever heard, “I QUIT!” 

The man in the coat turned to his taller counterpart, his voice colder than the river only meters away. “What the fuck did you say?” 

“I said,” Schwartz took an intimidating step forward, so that his next words were deposited directly in his colleague’s face, “I. Quit. You’re insane if you think this job’s gonna work.”

“‘I quit’,” the man in the coat mocked, his voice rising. “Do you now? You quit? No question? None at all?” 

“None at all.” Schwartz took a step back, turning to leave. “Goodbye.” 

“Goodbye,” the man in the coat nodded. “Goodbye.” A crack! echoed through the still night air. 

Schwartz stumbled, falling to his knees before collapsing in a heap on the ground. His body fell into a puddle of light created by another streetlamp, and Angie could see a dark stain spreading across his once-white shirt. 

The man in the coat smiled. “Goodbye.” 

The man on the ground did not reply. 

~~~

After what seemed like hours later, though it must have only been a minute or two, the man in the coat— still holding his gun— looked up from his dying (dead?) colleague and surveyed the stacks of crates around him. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said in a sing-song voice. Angie shivered, and Peggy gripped her hand. 

Peggy, sounding rather disgusted, said quietly to Angie, “This man is quite clearly deranged.” Angie nodded soundlessly, her eyes wide and terrified. Peggy felt her hand tighten. 

Peggy inched up a little higher to see over their crate. The man was searching behind the crates a few meters away. 

She melted back into her previous position. To Angie, she whispered, “Do you trust me?” 

Angie nodded, letting go of Peggy’s hand. “Yes.” 

“Stand up.” 

“English, are you crazy?” Angie hissed, acutely aware of the trigger-happy man only meters away. 

“Do you trust me?” Peggy countered tensely. 

Angie didn’t even have to think. “Yes.” 

“Then we might just make it out of here alive, Angie.” Peggy winked, and Angie heard herself wondering just how Peggy could be so calm. “Stand up against that wall, stumble a bit, and pull your coat up over your shoulder as though it has fallen down. Say something...” Here, Peggy hesitated. “... flirty.” 

“This is your coat, English.” 

“That’s your problem with this plan?” 

Angie did her best to nod without throwing up. Lucky for her, she succeeded. “Okay, okay. You win, Peg.” 

~~~

The next thing the man knew, there was a pretty blonde stumbling out from behind a crate and giggling. He could hear her say, in a weirdly flirtatious voice, “Oh, you old tease.” 

Little did he know, the blonde was giggling at nobody, really, and was actually drawing her mirth from her brunette friend’s expression after being called an “old tease”. 

“Hey!” the man yelled, but it seemed as though the blonde couldn’t hear him. “Hey!” he repeated, louder. Still, the blonde didn’t react. He was going to try again, but he was startled into silence by the sudden appearance of another woman, a brunette, by the looks of it, who pressed the blonde up against the wall and began, well... kissing her! 

Meanwhile, Peggy and Angie were having the time of their lives. If they were being honest, they both kinda forgot they were supposed to be pretending—in seconds, Peggy’s coat (which had been on loan to a certain blonde for a little over an hour, by now) was on the floor, and Angie’s hands were in Peggy’s once-neat hair, and Peggy was pinning Angie to the wall with her knee, and— 

“Hey!” Unnoticed by either of them, the man had stalked over, and proceeded to grab Peggy’s shoulder and pull her away from Angie. Peggy, moments before hitting the ground, noticed the gun hanging out of the man’s pocket. 

“Pocket!” Peggy yelped, doing her best to disguise it as a whimper. To be fair, she was improvising. 

“What did you say to me, you fucking dyke?” 

Peggy, still on the floor, whimpered. I’m a flawless American accent, she said, as pitifully as possible, “I... I’m sorry, sir, I... I just... oh, sir, I have nothing, nothing! I can say... for... for myself.” For added affect, she added a sniffle and swiped the back of her hand across her nose. 

“I can’t fucking believe this,” the man muttered, stomping away in the direction of the poorly concealed car Peggy had scouted out earlier. “I can’t fucking believe how overrun this city has become. God!” Peggy heard the car door slam. 

Once she was sure the man was gone, Angie held up the gun she’d taken from the man’s pocket when he had turned to Peggy. “Not too bad, hey, Peg?” 

“You really were amazing Angie. Thank you,” Peggy said, using a crate to help herself up. 

“Don’t mention it,” Angie smiled, waving her free hand. “Do you think the SSR is looking to hire? I’ve bet they’ve got a better check to give out than the diner.” 

Peggy smiled, too, and reached over to take the gun from Angie. “I don’t know, Angie. I think you belong on stage. After tonight? Darling, they have no choice but to give you all the leads they’ve got.” Carefully, she wiped the pistol clean with the hem of her skirt, then tossed it over near Schwartz’s body. 

“You’re damn right they should,” Angie said, her tone at odds with the way she glanced over at the body uneasily. 

Peggy, ever-observant, laced her fingers with Angie’s. Angie looked at the ground and squeezed Peggy’s hand gently, the best sign of gratitude she could come up with. 

Angie looked up and met Peggy’s eyes. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat, and she thought she might say something she’d never be able to take back. But a small little voice at the back of her head took over, and instead, she said, “It’s those directors that disagree with you. Did I tell you what the last one said to me?” 

“I don’t believe you did,” Peggy said, smiling softly, both of them knowing full well that Angie had told this story a million times since last Thursday. 

“Well, I had just finished my audition, and—you know how they usually wait a few days to decide— well, this one comes out right away and calls my name, all business-like, right as me and the girls are packing to go, and he says to me, ‘Angela Martinelli, you, girl, have got some talent, you have, but there’s just one thing...’”

And, as they walked back towards the city, Angie’s voice and Peggy’s laughter slowly blurring with the sounds of the New York City nightlife, the pair never once stopped holding hands.


End file.
